Asleep in Nara (Short Story Series, Pt. 7)

Note: This entry continues the short story series about Sebastian, an American abroad and in over his head in Nara, Japan. The story will likely be nine parts long, although ten is also a possibility. (And to think I once believed I could wrap this up in five… Oh, I was so young and naive back then).

You can find the previous chapters here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, and Part 6.

As strength returned to his limbs, Sebastian’s right hand sneaked further down Persephone’s back until he was groping her ass. He didn’t know why he did it, but he did. Put on the spot, he would have blamed masculine instincts. In his world, that’s what men did, after all--at least if they were red-blooded, straight American men.

Disgusted, Persephone slammed him back to the ground and spat in his face. She considered punching him to knock that obnoxious grin off his face. Standing in a huff, she worried she may have underestimated this one’s egotism.

Sebastian, meanwhile, wasn’t fazed by the new pain that lit up the back of his skull as his head hit the ground. He wasn’t bothered by his bleeding tongue either. The wound wasn’t severe and would heal up soon enough. He rolled his injured tongue through his mouth, tickled that all of his teeth were intact again. He ran his hands along his torso, marveling that it was whole once more.

His shirt still sported the gash the Yakuza had given him, but his abdomen was completely restored. There wasn’t even a scar. Sebastian leaned his head back and laughed. He stretched the corners of his mouth as wide as possible and belted out a maniacal, barking chortle. This went on for several minutes as Persephone grew increasingly impatient.

“You done yet, Joker?” she asked.

The laughter died down, only to pick back up moments later. Sebastian’s hands searched the length of his body, clutching at his thighs, his sides, his stomach, feeling the need to grab and readjust his dick. He was fully aware Persephone was watching, and he immaturely hoped she would flinch or turn away, embarrassed, although what could have given him that impression of her is not entirely clear.

Sebastian’s hands moved to his face. Persephone sighed as she inspected the katar. It was no worse for the wear and hadn’t been damaged even when Sebastian dropped it on the stone path. She had been reckless with the weapon and knew she ought to take better care of it. But in the moment, she had given into the rage that had been building for days.

She ran a finger along the flat of the blade and traced the triangular pattern of the words embossed there: Greek (bind), ancient Chinese (heaven), and Avestan (demon).

For the first time in decades, Persephone felt embittered by her lot. The blade was her responsibility. From the moment she had clawed her way back out of Hell centuries before, she had been drawn to it, stuck with it. This blade, this hungry beast, forged with the blood of saints and demons, and of course the blood of Telemachus, embodied her kind’s greatest sin.

The blade was only satisfied when drinking a victim’s blood, and then, only for a short while. It tormented her. It called; she answered. And ignoring its call wasn’t an option.

She had tried that at first, in the early years, only to be driven to the brink of madness. The blade infested her mind with memories of its master, and she found herself transported back into that cell with Telemachus, tortured by that monster.

Persephone shuddered and wished she could rid herself of this bastard blade. Instead, she slaked its insatiable thirst. For the moment, at least, it was content, quiet.

“Why didn’t you heal the scar on my forearm?” Sebastian asked, appearing suddenly behind her.

Persephone started. She tightened her fingers around the katar’s grip and fought back the urge to slice the boy head to toe.

She could already tell this one’s entitlement would be matched only by his incompetence. Maybe she had misjudged his history of violence and aptitude for the task. Too late now. She had to remind herself that no one could compare to Ken and that Sebastian was merely a partner of convenience.

She pictured Ken, now another anonymous corpse waiting to be cremated and ignominiously added to the ashes of the other unknown dead. The thought reignited her rage. In Ken’s place, she was left with this dope, and now, like so many times before, she was supposed to just pick up the pieces and carry on, pretending the last ten years hadn’t even happened. But this wasn’t like all the times before. She missed Ken terribly.

“Uh, hello? Jael?” Sebastian said, waving his scarred forearm in her face and pointing to it. “What gives? You healed my tooth and the cut on my stomach.”

“I left the scar on your back, too,” Persephone said. “I gave you those. Reminders that I own you now. And my name is Persephone.”

She turned and walked away, heading down the stairs and back onto the main path. She turned away from the large torii leading toward Wakamiya Shrine.

“Persephone, Jael, what do I care?” Sebastian shouted after her.

An angry flinch rippled through her body. Her frustration was only visible for a moment, but just long enough for Sebastian to notice. He knew now he couldn’t take her in a fight, but he was happy to get under her skin in any way he could.

Sebastian jogged to catch up, and Persephone smashed her left fist into his chest as he rushed to her side. He gulped for breath.

“Don’t try anything,” she said.

“I wasn’t...going...to,” he gasped. “Jesus, lady.”

“Stop calling me ‘Lady,’” she said.

“You’ve got a lot of rules.”

“You’ll learn them or you won’t, and if you don’t, it’ll likely cost you your life.”

“You don’t mince words, huh?” he said, regaining control of his breathing.

“No time,” she replied, resuming her departure. She grasped the katar grip harder.

“Well, apparently, I’ve got ten years of being your bitch or something, so I’d say there’s time,” Sebastian said. “What exactly does this service entail, by the way?”

“You didn’t care when I was saving your life. I can’t imagine why you’d care now.”

Sebastian stopped. In fact, he had asked what was up with those ten years of service, but she had been dodgy with the details. He considered bringing this to her attention, but then thought better of it. He didn’t really fancy another punch to the solar plexus.

They walked in silence for several minutes. Persephone’s rage emanated from her body like an aura. Sebastian kept expecting her to turn and pummel him at any moment, but he kept pace anyway. She hadn’t given him any further instructions, but she also hadn’t told him to stop following. He correctly interpreted that as an implicit command. Besides, he felt safer knowing exactly where she was at all times. The thought of pissing her off and having to run for his life in the woods again terrified him.

“So, Jael--” Sebastian began. Persephone glared. “Sorry! Sorry!” he said. “Persephone… Uh…”

She stared at him. When he didn’t speak, she raised her eyebrows, suggesting he get on with whatever stupid question he had in mind. Sebastian, however, in his fright, had completely lost his thought. He didn’t want to admit such a lapse, though, so he pivoted to another question.

“What’s up with the false name?” he asked, hoping that question transitioned well enough.

Persephone, for her part, didn’t give a damn about any of his questions, but she knew they were part of the ritual. New recruits always had a million questions. At one point, she had been used to it, but she hadn’t had a new recruit in nearly a decade. Now, she was retreading all that same old ground again, and it was exhausting, especially because she didn’t expect Sebastian to last in his new line of work. A random demon would likely snap his neck by the end of the week.

“Jael was a demon I hunted in Nara a few weeks ago,” Persephone said, matter-of-factly.

Sebastian blinked, clearly not processing any of that information. Persephone sighed. She had forgotten exactly how naive and ignorant a new recruit could be. She backed up further in the story.

“A month ago, my boss sent me to Japan for a vacation,” she said.

Sebastian nodded. “Right, yes.” He was proud of himself for remembering this detail from the bar.

“We went to Osaka. Once there, however, my...partner...learned of a demon named Jael.”

“Okay…” Sebastian said. He was familiar with demons, but honestly thought they stopped appearing in the world by the time the New Testament had been written.

“Ke--my partner and I tracked her down,” Persephone continued, “but she escaped the body in time. This body.” She motioned up and down the length of her body with both hands. Sebastian’s eyes only followed the vertical movements of the katar. Persephone didn’t notice.

“Question,” Sebastian said, raising his right hand.

“Save it,” she replied.

“Okay…” Sebastian said timidly, lowering his hand.

“I possessed this body, assumed Jael’s demonic identity to keep a lower profile, and we quickly tracked her down and killed her.”

Persephone was staring at Sebastian now, silently, impatiently, inviting his questions.

“I can talk now?”

“Quickly, if you want the chance,” she said.

“So you’re a…?”

“A demon, yes,” Persephone said. “Next question.”

“Fuck me…” Sebastian said, staring off into the distance and shaking his head in disbelief. That would explain her ability to bring him back from near-death, at least. He wondered what sort of indentured servitude he had gotten himself into.

“Next question,” Persephone interjected, before he had the chance to realize his last statement could double as a question.

“Your partner…”

“Was the John Doe in the funeral home. Mention him again, and I will cut your tongue out and feed it to you.”

“So you two were clo--?”

“What the fuck did I just say?” Persephone raised the katar right up to Sebastian’s face. He sucked his lips in between his teeth and crossed his eyes to follow the blade as it approached the tip of his nose.

Sebastian stopped walking, and Persephone halted, too, keeping the blade in position. Slowly, Sebastian took a step backward.

“Sorry,” he said.

“I don’t want your apologies,” Persephone said. “Just do as I say.”

Persephone lowered the weapon and walked away from him. Sebastian wasn’t sure if he was still supposed to be following, but decided it was probably in his best interest. He jogged back to her and kept a wide berth this time as he approached. They came to a fork in the road, and Persephone asked him which way back to his place. Sebastian pointed to the right, not really certain, but feeling he should make a swift decision. They followed the fork to the right.

“So, seriously, what do you want me to do during the next ten years?” Sebastian knew he was trying his luck asking that question again, but his life had just been turned upside down, and he was really hoping for some kind of plan.

“You’ve already been doing it,” Persephone said. “In fact, I’ll give you credit for that first kill before we struck the deal, so that lops about, what, five minutes off your terms of service?”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian’s memory of the battle was hazy.

Persephone stopped and turned toward him. She raised the katar to chest-level. It took Sebastian a second to react. He raised his hands across his face, lowered his head, and braced for a blow or stab.

“I can’t kill with this weapon,” Persephone said.

Sebastian had a really hard time believing that. After a moment, Persephone picked up on his confusion.

“It’s a demonic weapon. It can only be wielded by humans,” she explained.

“But--”

Persephone groaned and rolled her eyes. “Anyone can wield it, obviously, but only humans can kill with it,” she clarified. “And it sends souls straight to Hell.”

“Oh…” Sebastian said, finally beginning to understand. “So you needed me to stab that Yakuza because…”

“Exactly.”

“Oh…” Sebastian nodded several times, deeply, slowly. “But what was so special about him? I mean, you killed all the others...”

“He was the demon who killed my partner. Now he’s stuck in Hell. It’ll take him centuries to get back out.”

For one insane, suicidal moment, Sebastian considered asking how and when her partner had been murdered, but the homicidal look in Persephone’s eyes convinced him otherwise. He knew she didn’t need that katar to end him. Persephone, meanwhile, was impressed he had finally exercised some restraint. Maybe there was hope for this partnership, after all.

Sebastian turned to a different question: “What are you going to do with all those bodies back there?”

“Let the authorities sort it out. They’re Yakuza. It won’t be too hard to spin a convincing narrative for the public.”

“Right…” Sebastian said, wondering how many steps ahead Persephone had planned this whole evening. On the one hand, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how calculating she could be; on the other, he felt certain his survival depended on that knowledge.

They resumed their trek, and to Sebastian’s relief, he had chosen the correct direction. The forest receded. They were nearing the edge of the park.

“So you’re a demon-hunting demon…” Sebastian mused.

“It’s not as unique as it sounds,” Persephone said. “Demons aren’t really known for playing nice together.”

“Yeah, but you are different, aren’t you?” he asked. “You’re on a mission of some sort, right?”

Persephone met his question with a surprised set of eyebrows. She wasn’t sure what to make of Sebastian. Sometimes, he seemed infinitely dense and then randomly astute. She knew she did not like him, however. Of that, she was certain.

Realizing he wasn’t getting an answer to that last question, which was a kind of answer in itself, Sebastian asked,“So what happens after the ten years is up?”

“I cut you free,” Persephone said, smirking.

Sebastian didn’t like her choice of verb, but didn’t dare ask her to clarify. He decided that perhaps she had been right before: he should worry about his present conundrum and deal with future problems when they arose. Maybe he could find some loophole out of this whole arrangement before then.

Persephone was lying, of course, and Sebastian would have liked her honest answer even less. The truth was that she didn’t know what happened after ten years. No one had ever made it that far. Ken had come close, but despite all his skill, even he had fallen.

As they reached the edge of Nara Park, Persephone decided it was time to part ways for the night. Normally, at this juncture, she would place the katar in the new recruit’s possession, but she didn’t trust Sebastian as far as she could throw him. So she would keep the weapon for now, as much as she longed to be rid of it.

“I’ll be in touch soon,” Persephone said, scanning the streets in the distance. Sebastian was a little surprised she was letting him go. He had begun to fear this whole thing was one giant ploy in which she would just kill him in the end anyway. It seemed plausible enough. After all, what did he know of demons’ ideas of fun?

“Okay,” Sebastian said. He wasn’t sure what else to add. He didn’t know how he was supposed to return to his dorm and to his studies. He had no clue how to return to his life and carry on.

“One last thing before you go,” Persephone said. “From now on, your name is Charon.”

***[The photo is my own, taken along the entryway to Wakamiya Shrine in Nara Park]